Had happened before. Wouldn’t bet against it again. Always without a hint. Always from unexpected direction.
This time, it was below. A knee went off on an excursion. He was walking up steps. Not hurrying. Nothing special. But that knee took a detour to the right. An action that almost threw him back down the stairs. Made him grab the handrail and gasp. Pause to breath. Swallow pain. Yeah, and fear.
Others saw. “You okay?”
He nodded. Not sure what they saw. “Just.” Didn’t know how to explain it. Didn’t want to. “Caught my toe. Tripped myself.”
They were looking. Mute. Knew what had happened. Understood why he lied. Nodded. Accepting.
Continued on.
He followed. Betrayed by his body again. Worried that another betrayal was imminent. Maybe not a knee. Maybe memory. Or cognitive process. Damn body. No long trustworthy.
Michael Seidel, writer 
One of the harder parts of getting old is not being able to trust your own body anymore.
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Yes, watching my friend, this all came to me. Only known him four years. Intelligent individual. In his seventies. Suffering from Parkinson’s. Learning who he was and what he’s done and then seeing him now. Watching myself following a similar path. This is life.
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